The End of the Notebook Experiment
Last week I set aside my first draft notebooks and fired up my writing computer for the first time in two months, kicking off the first chapter of a project that’s living in my head as Untitled Space-Bro! Space-Marine Novel for about two years now. I’ll be honest: this surprised me. I was pretty sure I’d given my heart to notebooks, promised myself to them for the foreseeable future. There was something innately pleasurable about the process of opening up a blank page and scribbling in it with pen. I adored the portability of the notebooks, the fact that I could head off and write while tramping around the streets of Brisbane. Instead, I’m sitting them aside. Because I am fickle and heartless. And because a few things changed my mind. ONE: I CRUNCHED SOME DATA I often get irritated when writers use the word experiment to describe their approach to an aspect of the craft/business of writing. Too often
